The Only Way Out: Does It Really Matter?
by Designation
Summary: New and old faces are popping up everywhere to help Max, Alec, and the residents of TC stay alive and occupied. . . .
1. What to do?

The Only Way Out: Does It Really Matter?  
  
Keela13  
  
Part One  
  
This is a complete make-over of "It Matters, or Does It?"  
  
Summary: Max and crew have to find a way to get Logan, Sketchy and Original Cindy out of  
Terminal City, and the transgenics have to find ways to keep themselves occupied while the siege  
creeps slowly along.  
  
Note: Post Freak Nation, Alec does not yet know what Max told Logan to push him away.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
So slow down your horses  
Stop dragging me around  
And if crying is the only way into your heart  
Then leaving is the only way out  
  
--Shania Twain  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Well you can count me out," Luke said, rising from the table and moving on to some less risky  
business.  
  
"He's right, this is ridiculous," Mole agreed shoving out his chair and standing. "No, this is  
ludicrous!" he fumed and stormed away.  
  
"Oh, come on Mole!" Alec called after him. "Since when do you back down from a challenge?"  
  
"Since now!" Mole called back to him.  
  
"Since now . . ." Jay, an X6 who sat at the table with the group, mused. "Sounds like a good  
enough . . . uh, excuse." He got up hastily and ran off.  
  
"So," Logan said, turning to Alec. "What's it gonna be?"  
  
"There's no way you've got it as good as you would have us believe. You're not fooling me. I'll  
call you," Alec responded, eyeing Logan's cards warily. Not to mention the massive pile of cash  
that covered the table, threatening to spill off. Some of it had, already. Luke, Mole and Jay's  
cards had been thrown in there as well. "Come on, don't be such a drama queen. Let's see  
what ya got."  
  
Logan moved to show his cards, a sly grin slowly forming on his face.  
  
Alec leaned over the pile to get a good look. . . .  
  
And felt himself get pushed face first onto the table, sending money and cards flying everywhere.   
"Game's over boys," Max informed them. "Meeting time."  
  
"But Max!" Logan complained. "I'm about to clean him out!"  
  
Max snatched his cards and Alec's, then put them together and tossed them carelessly about the  
room. She grabbed Alec by the hair and peeled him off of the table, several bills joining him as he  
scooped them into his arms on the way. "Nuh uh," Max said, and grabbed both of his arms,  
twisting them behind his back together. "Not today."  
  
Alec struggled vainly and Logan shot her a look of disbelief. "Up," Max ordered. Logan stood.   
"Follow." She turned Alec toward HQ and shoved him. He stumbled dazedly and barely avoided  
falling flat on his face on the floor. The three of the filed neatly out of the crowded room with  
several grumbling complaints, curses, and pleading questions from Alec.  
  
As soon as they were gone, every single body in the room lunged toward the table, faster than  
human eyes could clearly see.  
  
********  
  
When they reached HQ, Alec was still grumbling. "I can't believe I let you drag me away from all  
that money," he muttered.  
  
"Awww," Max drawled, knowing full well Logan could hear every word she was about to say,  
"save ya energy baayyy-by. Yo' gonna need it latah!" She gave him the once-over and licked her  
lips.  
  
Alec's eyes widened in a combination of surprise and fear. He shook his head and wiped the look  
off his face. He raised his eyebrow at her. "What's with the voice? You didn't get hillbilly in your  
cocktail, did you?"  
  
"Ah reckon ah did mate," Max drawled.  
  
Alec shuddered. "Was that wild wild west or wild wild down under?"  
  
"Does it really matter?" Max asked, winking at him.  
  
Alec stared at her blankly. Max rolled her eyes and sat down, ready to begin the meeting.  
  
Alec slumped into a chair nearby, and sat there waiting.  
  
"Okay, people, what's on the agenda today?" Max asked as soon as everyone was present and  
seated. She looked around at everyone who sat at the table. Logan, Dix, Luke, Alec, Mole,  
Ryss, who was a female X5, and the self appointed resident medic of Terminal City, Sketchy,  
Original Cindy, Jen, who was a male X6; sort of a representative for the Xs, Joshua, and Gary,  
lion anomaly, straight from 'The Wizard of Oz'; a representative for the anomalies.  
  
Mole was the first to speak. "Cigars," he grumbled.  
  
Max arched a perfect eyebrow at him. "Okaaay, but seriously now."  
  
Sketchy raised his hand. Max's eyebrow shot further into her hairline. "Yes, Sketchy."  
  
"Uhh, not to sound all . . . I don't feel too good."  
  
"That's what Rick is here for," Logan grinned.  
  
"Ryss," the now slightly pissed off red-haired X5 hissed.  
  
Alec chuckled, but immediately sobered up when his thoughts returned to the matter at hand.   
"Yeah, we'd better get the three of them out of here, and soon," he stated, gesturing to Sketchy,  
Original Cindy and Logan.  
  
"I feel fine!" Logan protested.  
  
Alec rolled his eyes and began to hum some nameless tune, deciding he no longer felt the need to  
pay attention, having put his two cents in and not wanting to listen to Logan's whiney voice.   
There was only so much whining he could listen to and put up with, and Logan did a *lot* of  
whining. There were some days when Alec wished for nothing more than a needle and thread to  
sew the guy's mouth shut, but for now, he'd have to settle for humming. For now.  
  
Mole glared at Logan, sending daggers in his direction. "Transgenic blood in you or not, you're  
not gonna feel that way much longer. They," he gestured to Cindy and Sketchy, "have to get out  
now, and we're not taking two trips."  
  
"But-"  
  
"He's right," Max interrupted. "Luke, you've been around here awhile, do you think you can find  
a discreet way out?"  
  
"Sure," he replied. "I'd be happy to help."  
  
"Okay, great. Take a group and get on it." Luke nodded.  
  
"We need to get the infirmary up and running, and we need supplies and medical equipment,"  
Ryss reminded them.  
  
Alec's attention returned momentarily to the matter at hand. "And for that, we're gonna need  
money," he added, still sore at being dragged away from the table. Money was a very pleasurable  
commodity, that he enjoyed in great amounts. Being dragged away from it didn't exactly rub him  
the right way. Damn, he had forgotten how his tune had gone. Humming was not a very good  
distraction if it kept getting interrupted. He started a new tune.  
  
"Well, I guess there's not much chance that table's still holding, we'll try to get that back, and  
maybe a few donations from everyone around who has money," Max suggested, taking a moment  
to glare at Alec, who didn't even notice. She willed him to shut the hell up. He did not. "Jen and  
Gary, you guys can take care of that?"  
  
"Yeah," the both of them replied.  
  
"We're gonna need a whole lot more than that," Dix observed.  
  
"We can sell paintings," Joshua suggested, sounding hopeful at the prospect of distributing his  
work.  
  
Max nodded. "The woman you dealt with before, do you think she'd buy any?"  
  
"I- I think . . . yes," Joshua replied.  
  
"Great," Max said. "But we'll probably still need more money, we need a lot of stuff. Alec, can  
you organize a few raids and heists?"  
  
"What?" Alec asked, not knowing what the hell they were talking about.  
  
"Can you organize a few raids and heists?"  
  
"Oh, of course," Alec responded, grinning. At least something was gonna be interesting.  
  
"Be discreet, lay low, and don't let anyone know who's hitting them," Max cautioned.  
  
Alec rolled his eyes at her, who did she think he was? Well okay, him, but this was serious. He  
nodded anyway. Back to the humming.  
  
"We need food supplies," Luke said.  
  
"Confer with our resident musician when he starts to *pay attention*," Max hissed angrily in  
Alec's direction. He didn't notice. The song that pig thing and the rat thing sang, from the movie  
about the lions and hyenas floated from his throat. When the hell had Alec seen 'The Lion King'?  
And leave it to Alec to chose *that* song. If he didn't shut up, Max was gonna give him a few  
'worries' in a minute. "How's it going with the runes, Dix?" Max sighed.  
  
"No different, still working on it," Dix replied. "I think we've got all the basics, what Logan told  
you, we just gotta clear it up a little."  
  
Max nodded. Alec's incessant humming was seriously grating on her nerves. She fought the urge  
to visibly shudder, when he switched to 'I Just Can't Wait to Be King.' She was the leader of  
TC, sorta like a queen, and . . . ugh. "What else?" she hissed.  
  
"Weapons," Mole, of course, spoke up.  
  
"Work with Alec on the raids, make sure you get what you need. Ryss, you confer with them. I  
want details on all raids, I wanna know who goes where when and doing what." Max tried to  
look each of them in the eye in turn, but of course, Alec wasn't even looking. "Is that all?"  
  
"One more thing," Jen said, looking at Gary, who was grinning slightly at Alec. Obviously, he  
had somehow seen the movie as well. And also obviously, he and Jen had discussed this last  
matter beforehand. "We're all bored," Jen said plainly.  
  
"Everyone's going stir crazy," Gary added.  
  
"Uhh . . . well," Max said. Unlike all the others, this issue had left her stumped. "Ideas?"  
  
"We could search the city for sports equipment and start a gym," Jen suggested.  
  
Most people looked happy at the suggestion. "Good idea," Max complemented.  
  
"W-we could paint," Joshua said. "M-more to sell."  
  
"And we could put a few on display, this place could use something to brighten it up," Dix added.  
  
"You could have card tournaments," Logan suggested.  
  
Mole chuckled. "No, how about chess? Or maybe jump rope? What's the point of playing cards  
when you can't gamble because you have to donate all your money to your people's survival?"  
  
"Just a thought," Logan grumbled.  
  
Silence ensued as everyone was lost in thoughts of what to do. Even Alec was silent. Max was  
both overjoyed and surprised. He actually had been listening, and now was trying to help think up  
a plan!  
  
Sadly, such thoughts were nothing but wishful thinking. BAM! Everyone at the table jumped as  
Alec began pounding out a drum solo on the table, apparently having dropped the movie tunes.  
  
Ryss, being the closest female to him, reached around Mole and smacked him in the back of the  
head.  
  
"What the-"  
  
As she was struck with inspiration, Ryss smacked him again, cutting him off. "Alec, you're a  
genius!" she said.  
  
Max's jaw dropped. "Since when?"  
  
Ryss apparently didn't hear her. "We can start a band!"  
  
Alec chuckled. "Who's gonna sing? Me? Oh, and Mole's gonna be a drummer. . . ." He  
visualized it, and chuckled some more.  
  
Ryss smacked him again. "Auditions, idiot. And it seems you're the drummer here."  
  
"Okay," Max agreed. "So when we've got everything else taken care of, Jen, Gary, Joshua and  
Alec can take care of that. Ryss, you can help too if you're not busy with medical."  
  
Several variations of 'Great idea, Ryss' passed around the table, but Max didn't join in. Instead,  
she muttered, "Genius, no. Idiot, yes."  
  
Alec gave her an angry look and crinkled his nose at her.  
  
********  
  
After the meeting had broken up and everyone had gone their separate ways, Luke quickly  
organized a team of Xs and anomalies to transport the ordinaries out of Terminal City. The team  
and their charges held a small meeting of their own in HQ.  
  
Logan, Sketchy, and Original Cindy had been given the bullet proof Phalanx uniforms to wear on  
the way, so they wouldn't be killed immediately if someone pulled a gun on them. Original Cindy  
grumbled as she put on the helmet, "Nothing worse than helmet hair, nothing worse than helmet  
hair. . . ." The transgenics had a good laugh at her.  
  
Luke turned to Dim, a mouse anomaly who had been named because of his size, he was quite  
diminutive, and Sally, a feline anomaly. Despite their genetic make-up, the two of them were very  
close. "You two scout the perimeter, check for a 'back door' we can slip out of. Stick together,  
don't let each other our of your sight," Luke instructed.  
  
They nodded, and left quickly. "What do we do?" Logan asked.  
  
Surprisingly, Luke bothered to respond to the idiotic question. "We wait."   
  
"Where're we going?" Sketchy asked.  
  
Luke shot him a sympathetic look. "You really don't wanna know."  
  
Sketchy gulped.  
  
Twenty minutes later, Dim and Sally returned, successful in finding a way out. Luke flipped out a  
cell phone from his pocket, quickly dialing a number and holding it to his ear. "Here are the  
coordinates," he said, handing the phone temporarily to Sally, who rattled off a street address.   
Luke put the phone back to his own ear. "You ready for them?" he asked. "We're on our way."   
He hung up and turned his attention back to the group. "Let's move out," Luke ordered. They  
left.  
  
In under five minutes, the group came upon a manhole in the middle of a deserted street. "The  
sewers?!" Logan exclaimed.  
  
"Suck it up Wheels," Sketchy told him, lowering himself in, with the help of an X6. Original  
Cindy quickly followed.  
  
Logan stared skeptically at the hole as the X6 jumped in. Soon only he and Luke were left on the  
surface. "Is this really-" Logan began, but was cut off as Luke shoved him toward the manhole.   
He all but fell in, managing to land on his feet at the bottom, thanks to his trusty exoskeleton. As  
soon as he moved out of the way, Luke climbed in after him, closing the manhole behind himself.   
The tunnel was filled with darkness.  
  
Three of the transgenics each took an ordinary by the arm, since they didn't have the gift of  
enhanced sight. They began to trudge though the muck, reaching their destination in a rather  
small amount of time.  
  
Nicole, the X6, who had shoulder length curly black hair and a light complexion, lifted the  
manhole cover with ease and carefully poked her head out. Dim crept further along the tunnel  
and stuck his head around the bend to make sure there would be no surprise visits from that  
direction. Both of them reported the area clear.  
  
Luke, Nicole, Logan, Cindy, and Sketchy climbed out quickly and quietly, keeping all senses on  
alert in case anyone decided to show up. Dim and Sally remained in the sewers, ready to provide  
backup if needed. Luke and Nicole hustled the others to a sheltered doorway in a nearby  
building.  
  
Within a few minutes of tense anticipation, they saw a vehicle, familiar to some, pull onto the  
street. Logan's Aztec. "What the hell?" Logan wondered as the vehicle braked in the middle of  
the street.  
  
"No time," Luke told him. He stuck his head out from the doorway, looking in both directions to  
make sure they were still alone. They were, so he shoved Logan toward the vehicle. The three  
ordinaries piled into the back, and the Aztec drove quickly out of the street.  
  
Luke and Nicole quickly jumped back down the manhole, and the four transgenics headed back to  
TC.  
  
Logan, Sketchy, and Original Cindy stared open mouth at the current driver of Logan's vehicle.   
Some idiot driver ahead of them braked in the middle of the road. The driver yelled angrily,  
"Your bed's at home! Hurry the hell up and drive to it, and get outta the way! The road is not a  
country club! Bip bip bip!"  
  
********  
  
"Every one? Are you sure, Josh?" Alec asked, the full support and concern he felt written all over  
his face.  
  
"Every one," Joshua replied. He was allowing them to sell every single painting in his house. "I  
want them to see her. She was special."  
  
Alec patted his friend on the shoulder. "You're damn right she was special. Even after she knew  
who you are, even after what I made you do, she still accepted you. I'm sorry, you know that  
right?" There was not a hint of insincerity on Alec's face or in his voice.  
  
"I know, Medium Fella. You were just doing what you thought was best." Joshua looked down  
at his feet, a low whimper escaping his throat. Alec was thankful that he had decided to discuss  
Joshua's paintings in private.  
  
"I was wrong," Alec whispered.  
  
"Alec, why did she have to . . ."  
  
"Leave?"  
  
"Die."  
  
Alec cringed at the hurt that came through with Joshua's simple statement. Why *did* Annie  
have to die? It wasn't like Joshua had done something wrong, he didn't deserve all this hurt. He  
was the kindest, sweetest, most understanding person he knew. Why did Joshua have to suffer  
the same fate as himself? Alec, the biggest screw up on the planet, cold blooded murderer, who  
didn't give a damn about anyone but himself. Why were the two of them in the same boat every  
time they thought of the word love? "I . . . I don't know Joshua . . ." Alec finally answered, his  
voice cracking slightly as he did so. His eyes stung with unshed tears.  
  
As Joshua looked up and their eyes met, Alec saw that his didn't. Joshua's tears flowed freely.   
"I'm sorry too, Alec," Joshua said.  
  
Alec felt a tear slip, and a surge of anger, anger at his own weakness, filled him. He swiped it  
away roughly. Joshua was young, in all ways that mattered. He was new to this world, new to  
hurt. It was natural for him to give in to useless emotions. Alec, X5-494, was stronger than that,  
more wise in the ways of the world. He knew hurt. His time to be over it had come a long time  
ago. He had moved on. Emotions were a weakness. Let yourself feel happy, let yourself feel  
love, and all you got was hurt.  
  
Alec composed his self, locking his tears back in. "I'll go get them. These should make us loads  
of cash. Terminal City thanks you Josh." He saluted, smiling lightly, and left the room.  
  
Joshua stared at his back until he was out of sight. He reached up to wipe his tears in his sleeve,  
and imitated Alec. He dried his face, sniffed, and plastered a smile over the hurt. He tried to lock  
his feelings away, appearing happy to all the world. If Alec did it so much, then it must be the  
right thing to do. Joshua smiled widely and left the room.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
After much slaving and editing, here it is. Tell me what you think. Are you glad that I'm fixing up  
"It Matters, or Does It?"? I am. I think I can do a lot with that plot line, it deserves to be  
presented much better than it was.  
  
And I just thought I'd let you know, I'll be doing some major work with original characters in this  
story. (Not the original characters I've presented so far, as much as the ones I've already written  
detailed sketches on. I'm doing my best to have them very well developed, and know them inside  
out, and I can't wait until I get to the point where they're introduced in this story.)  
  
BTW, I don't remember the name of the girl who Joshua sold his paintings to, so unless someone  
knows and tells me, I'm gonna call her Lisa Dowell. 


	2. Intros and Money One

The Only Way Out: Does It Really Matter?  
  
Keela13  
  
Part One  
Chapter 2  
  
Summary: The transgenics have to find ways to stay alive, and keep themselves occupied while  
the siege creeps slowly along.  
  
Note: I have so many ideas that I can work together for this story, I'm gonna call it a season  
three. But be warned, my average chapter length nowadays for any of my stories is eight to ten  
pages in Corel WordPerfect 9, and that includes author's notes and stuff. So don't expect  
episodism rather than chapterism. At least they're longer than the first stuff I ever posted. 1 to 3  
pages.  
  
Oh, and also, if you're reading this story, PLEASE review. I'd like to know if anyone at all is  
reading this. Let's just say I didn't get many reviews for the first chapter. But I would like to get  
some. I'm gonna continue this story anyway, but I'd like SOME acknowledgment.  
  
Thanks Natters, for the one review I got, but more of what exactly? What did you like? What  
didn't you like? What could use some improvement? What was you favourite part? I'm glad  
you like it and want to read more, but please, give me something to go on!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Cute setup you got here," Alec said, strolling leisurely into Joshua's old house, where boxes  
were piled endlessly into a massive fort.  
  
Sketchy peeked his head out from a makeshift doorway in the boxes, obviously feeling much  
better now that he was away from the deadly toxins of Terminal City. "Hey Alec!" he said  
joyfully. "Hey guys, it's Alec!"  
  
Normal came running from the kitchen screaming, "Golden Boy!" He flew excitedly at Alec. A  
look of sheer terror crossed Alec's face, and he jumped frantically to the side as Normal flew at  
him, arms open. Normal crashed into the wall. At having the living daylights scared out of him,  
Alec's breathing was ragged. The mental, of a smiling, screaming, *giddy* Normal rushing at him  
with his arms open was definitely gonna give him nightmares for a long time to come.  
  
Alec was gaining his composure as Normal writhed in pain on the floor, when suddenly something  
hit him from behind and he crashed awkwardly to the floor. "Alec!" Original Cindy shrieked. "I  
missed you, Boo, you have no idea what it's been like here with these crazy male freaks!"  
  
Alec pushed her off, rolled over, and rose unsteadily to his feet. "OC, I hate to break this to you,  
but while I'm not crazy, I happen to be more of a freak than they are, and I am male." Alec  
studied Sketchy's fort, and remembered Normal rushing at him, and reconsidered. "No, you're  
right, they're the freaks here."  
  
"I think that's giving your people a bad name," Logan said, emerging from the kitchen and taking  
a large bite out of a sandwich.  
  
Alec and Original Cindy glared at him. Sketchy and Normal turned to him, both shocked and  
surprised. Rage immediately ignited within Alec, and burned fiercely. He forced it under control.   
"What," he hissed menacingly, "because no matter how bad you ordinaries can get, we're always  
worse?"  
  
Logan looked up at him from his sandwich, momentarily pausing in his chewing, surprise clouding  
his features. Still, he did not attempt to correct himself.  
  
-I can see why Max broke up with you,- Alec almost said. Instead, he chose, "I'm here to collect  
Joshua's paintings. He's selling them to add to the TC fund."  
  
"All of them?" Original Cindy asked gently. She knew the significance of Joshua's paintings to  
the artist, especially those of Annie.  
  
"That's what he says," Alec told her, "but I'm gonna leave one of Annie."  
  
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Logan asked. "I mean, he wants you to sell them all. I don't  
think he'd appreciate you going against his wishes."  
  
"And I don't think he'd appreciate anyone selling his last reminder of the woman he loved!" Alec  
snapped. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some work to do." Alec walked as calmly as  
possible down the stairs to the basement. When he got to the bottom, he looked around, counting  
the numerous paintings he saw. As he lost count, he knew that he was gonna have his work cut  
out for him. He took a deep breath. -Thank god thugs enjoy vans,- he thought. Well, they did,  
while they had them. It was Alec's turn, as of ten minutes ago.  
  
His eyes settled on the piano in the centre of the room. He longed to feel his fingers gliding  
across the smooth keys. To hear the rich melody pouring through the air. But he had work to  
do. There was no time for play. Or reminiscing.  
  
Carrying an armload of paintings piled on top of each other carefully, Alec trudged upstairs.   
When he reached the top, Original Cindy raised her eyebrows at him. "Anyone else would be  
tumbling back down them stairs right now, ya know. That's some load ya got there," she said.  
  
"Why OC, are we a little jealous?"  
  
"Nah boo, but judging from the looks on their faces, the males are." She gestured towards the  
other three. Jealousy, jealousy, and Alec could swear there was a hint of drool pooling at the  
corners of Normal's mouth. Not that Alec was looking. Shudder.  
  
Alec stopped in front of the door that led to the outside, arms full. He stood there for a few  
moments before he turned to the others. "Well?"  
  
"Well what?" Logan asked.  
  
Alec nodded his head toward the door. The room was silent. Alec rolled his eyes. "Hello? You  
guys crippled?"  
  
"Huh?" Sketchy asked, probably the most confused of them all.  
  
"The door, geniuses!"  
  
Everyone other than Alec let out a brief chorus of 'oh's.  
  
Alec stared at them. They stared back. "Or I could just break it down!" Alec turned back to the  
door and raised his foot, hoping they'd get the not so subtle message. They did, but  
unfortunately, they all did at once.  
  
Sketchy, Original Cindy, and Normal rushed to get the door for him, crashing into each other in  
their haste. Original Cindy managed to jump back before the two men took her down, but  
Sketchy and Normal crashed to the floor. Logan calmly walked over and opened the door. Alec  
stepped out. "Be back in a sec."  
  
After a few minutes, he hadn't returned. Original Cindy was getting worried when, "Uhh, you  
guys?"  
  
Original Cindy peeked out the door. Alec stood, unbalanced, the paintings in one arm, tilted  
backwards to balance the extra weight, trying to open the back door of the van with one hand.   
He was having a little trouble, considering he couldn't keep his extra hand away from the  
paintings for more than a millisecond. Transgenic balance and reflexes aside, the paintings were  
dangerously close to sliding right out of his grip.  
  
Original Cindy rushed out and yanked the door open, Alec barely avoiding being hit. He carefully  
placed the paintings inside. "I think next time I won't take quite so many," Alec decided.   
Original Cindy followed him back inside, leaving all doors open. Alec disappeared down the  
stairs, and contrary to his previous statement, came back up with an even bigger load. He had all  
the paintings in the van in record time.  
  
After saying his 'goodbye's and 'see you later's, Alec drove to the art gallery. He strode in,  
looking important, and immediately headed towards Lisa Dowell's office. He knocked, waited to  
be permitted entrance and went in. "Yes?" Lisa asked. Recognition flooded her features. "Oh,  
it's you," she sighed. Then she brightened at his obvious reason for being there. "You're here for  
business, I presume."  
  
"That's right," Alec replied. "Joshua has been very busy lately."  
  
"How busy exactly?" Lisa asked, taking a sip from a glass of water that sat on her deep brown  
wooden desk.  
  
"I've got eighty-nine paintings out in my van."  
  
Lisa choked and nearly spit her water across the room. "Eighty-nine?!?"  
  
Alec winced. "He hasn't exactly been able to get out lately."  
  
"Well we can't afford to buy all of them right now!" Lisa said, managing to stop coughing and  
sputtering enough for sadness to fill her voice.  
  
"Well, in that case," Alec told her, "I guess you just get first pick. As many as you want."  
  
Lisa smiled at him. "Greatly appreciated. So how has Joshua been?" she asked, rising from her  
chair and stepping out the door, which Alec politely held open for her.  
  
Alec sighed. "Truthfully? Not too good. He recently suffered from the loss of a close . . .  
friend."  
  
"I'm sorry to hear that."  
  
"Well, he's dealing. I think we might need some help bringing them in," Alec observed.  
  
"Definitely," Lisa agreed. "Molly!" she called out to a young woman who sat behind a desk near  
the door. "We're gonna need a few extra hands, can you round up the boys?"  
  
"On it." The girl pressed a button on her intercom, called for some help, and within minutes three  
heavy, muscular men came in, ready to help. The five of them headed outside to the van. Alec  
opened the back doors, to reveal paintings filling the back to the roof. Lisa gasped. It was a lot  
of paintings. And it didn't exactly look as if they'd been packed carefully. But as they loaded  
them all into the building, she saw that not one of them had a scratch on it. And she noted with  
joy the little signature and number in every corner: Joshua. He was most definitely a remarkable  
individual.  
  
They lay the paintings around the room, leaning them against the walls, lying them on the floor,  
squeezing them into the room that had seemed so large before. They took a considerably larger  
amount of time to unload them as Alec had to load them, since they each took one at a time. Alec  
had decided to keep the suspicion levels at a minimum. Lisa was glad it was nearly closing time,  
she could stay as long as she wanted without any idiots coming in and stepping on the beautiful  
paintings. As she began to look them over, Alec realized that this was going to take awhile and  
pressed himself comfortably in a corner, sliding to the floor.  
  
Lisa didn't even notice. She paced slowly back and forth in front of the paintings, occasionally  
having one of her helpers move a painting to the side, the ones she wanted the most. She was  
finding it difficult to chose, however, because she wanted them all. Lisa noticed that a good  
portion of the paintings were of the same beautiful young woman. The love Joshua must have felt  
for her broadcast itself from every one of them. She gasped.  
  
Alec, who had been dangerously close to nodding off, snapped up his head to look at her. "Is  
something wrong?" he asked worriedly.  
  
"This . . . this is that blind girl from TV! Joshua . . . he loved her . . ."  
  
Alec nodded, even though she wasn't looking at him. "He didn't do it," he informed her, anger  
seeping slightly into his voice.  
  
"I know . . ." Lisa whispered. "He couldn't have. He loved her," she repeated.  
  
"Yeah," Alec whispered. "He did."  
  
"I'll take all the ones of her," Lisa said. That was twenty-three of the total number of paintings.   
She went over several other paintings, with Lisa describing what they said to her and why she  
liked them, and negotiating prices, while Alec simply followed her around the room with his eyes,  
nodding and tossing one word agreements in her direction. Lisa's helpers scrambled to collect all  
the paintings she pointed out and move them off to the side. Lisa stopped in front of one painting  
in particular. She stood in front of where it leaned against the wall for several minutes, studying it  
closely.  
  
Alec stood and stepped quietly up behind her. "Do you like it?" he asked gently, startling her a  
little, wondering if he was interrupting her 'artist's flow' or something by talking to her. You  
never knew with these gallery people. And he'd be damned if he'd ever understood a woman.  
  
"It's complicated . . ." she commented, ignoring his question. "See how all the vibrant colours on  
the outside seem to pull the attention away from the dark core?"  
  
"Uh huh," Alec drawled. Yep, he'd be damned. All he wanted to know was if she wanted it or  
not, so he could get the hell out of there.  
  
"But the darkness is the entire focus, the importance, the *point* of the entire painting. It *is*  
the painting. And yet it's like it's hidden away, by this . . . fa‡ade of pretty colours. . . ."  
  
"Tricks and treats," Alec muttered. He turned toward the painting, figuring he'd at least try to  
pay attention to whatever she was babbling on about. As he studied the painting, he was  
transfixed by the centre, the core. Darkness. Covered by 'tricks and treats.' Alec shivered, there  
was something so . . . fascinating about it, something that drew him to it, like a magnet. . . .  
  
Alec snapped his head in Lisa's direction, realizing she was speaking to him. Had been doing so,  
in fact, for several minutes. "What were you saying?" he asked.  
  
Lisa gave him a puzzled and concerned look, then spoke, "The shorthand version: I said I'll take  
it."  
  
"Oh!" Alec said, then shook his head to clear it completely of the fog it had been in. "Sure, yeah.   
Any more?"  
  
"I'm afraid that's all I can take right now." She smiled almost sadly. "Don't suppose you can put  
them on layaway?" she joked.  
  
"No can do," Alec told her. "I need to get these sold as soon as possible, Joshua's financial  
position is pretty . . . tight."  
  
Lisa nodded. She turned towards the paintings she had selected. Thirty-seven in total. Needless  
to say, that was a lot of cash, they had settled on five thousand dollars each. She dispatched one  
of her helpers to the gallery safe. Alec watched him leave, and idly wondered the exact location  
of said vault, and exactly how easy it would be to break into it. He mentally chastised himself.   
-Rob from the dirty and give to the not-so-dirty,- he reminded himself. Lisa was, in no way, dirty  
or corrupt, and she most certainly did not deserve a massive robbery. Besides, TC was already  
gaining $185, 000 with her assistance.  
  
The man returned a few minutes later, carrying a briefcase containing the money. He handed it  
carefully to Lisa, who in turn handed it to Alec. "You can count it if you'd like," Lisa said.  
  
Alec smiled lightly at her. "I don't think that'll be necessary. Besides, I'd like to leave here as  
soon as possible, no offense." Alec was growing as stir crazy as the citizens of Terminal City.  
  
"None taken," Lisa assured him. She instructed her helpers to help Alec carry the rest of the  
paintings back to the van. They carefully piled all fifty-two remaining paintings in. Lisa seemed  
very concerned about their health, piled on top of each other like that, but Alec assured her they'd  
be fine, besides, their health and welfare was no longer her problem.  
  
Alec spent several more hours cruising around to Seattle's other galleries, conning managers into  
believing Joshua would be the next Picasso, without the screwed up faces, and managing to make  
a fortune off of Joshua's work. Alec almost let himself feel guilty of the reward he was getting  
from Joshua's hard work and love, but he reminded himself that this was for all of TC, including  
Joshua, and he left it at that.  
  
********  
  
"I'm telling you right now," stated the gorgeous blonde to her handsome companion as they  
walked down the street, "if I don't get out of these rags and military boots, I'm gonna start  
venting my frustration on you."  
  
"Me?" the guy questioned, using both hands to point at himself and staring at her. His through  
and through black eyes widening with innocence. "What did I do?"  
  
"Well, you're the fashion challenged moron who got these!" she hissed angrily, spending a full  
five minutes talking him down to the dirt along with the dirty, torn, once black, now grey, tight  
legged corduroys, faded hot pink, warped, stretched, woolen sweater, and military combat  
boots she wore.  
  
"And you think I'm just overjoyed with this?" he snarled at her, gesturing wildly at his purple  
plaid, buttonless button down shirt and spray painted orange, knee length jean cutoffs. Plus  
similar black military combat boots to complete the 'look.' The blonde's naturally pale, pale face,  
now seemingly stained brown with dirt, contorted into a twisted mix of anger and amusement as  
she looked his outfit over, and burst into laughter. The guy tilted his face downward slightly and  
stared up past his eyebrows, heaving a sigh as if to say, 'Do you see what I have to put up with?'   
He ran his hand through his dirty, black hair and sighed again. "Let's get some actual clothes  
before anyone else sees us," he suggested.  
  
Through her fits of laughter, the blonde nodded and turned, leaping the fence into Terminal City.   
She landed on the other side and stumbled, barely controlling her laughter enough to keep from  
falling to the ground.  
  
The guy turned his head from side to side, checking once again to see if anyone would see them,  
and followed her in. "Would ya shut up already?"  
  
"But making fun of you is *so* fun!" she informed him, her full lips pouting in a very cute  
manner. She slapped him playfully on the shoulder. He turned toward her as they continued their  
journey into the bowels of Terminal City. His black eyes seemingly alight with mischief, he  
grinned at her.  
  
The blonde took one wary step back, and he watched as her violet-green mix eyes filled with  
mock fear. He quickly grabbed her around the waist and flung her over his shoulder, giving her  
round butt a soft tap and bouncing toward the nearest abandoned apartment building with her  
pounding on his back and shoulders with her fists and shrieking loudly. "Ssh," he teased. "You'll  
wake the neighbours."  
  
She let out a small roar of frustration and renewed her attack. She squirmed more and more until  
she ended up kicking him, right where it counts. He gasped and dropped her, doubling over, arms  
protecting his package. The blonde fell into another set of laughter, as she landed, somewhat  
hard, on the ground. After a few minutes, the girl stood shakily and patted her aching friend on  
the purple plaid back. "Come on, what are we waiting around here for?" she teased.  
  
He growled, and straightened up slowly. "We're waiting for you to stop abusing me."  
  
The girl giggled. "You started it!"  
  
The guy shook his head. "Oh, no. Don't you even start *that*," he warned.  
  
The blonde simply giggled and took off into the apartment building, with the guy hot on her heels.  
  
*********  
  
Alec strolled tiredly into Headquarters lugging three briefcases of cash. Despite their contents, he  
dropped them unceremoniously onto the long, meeting table. "Here's our first haul," he  
announced.  
  
Joshua rushed over excitedly. "Is that all from the paintings?" he asked eagerly, his eyes alight  
with hope.  
  
Alec smiled at him. "Every penny. Congratulations Josh, you're the first to add a real sum to the  
TC Un-retirement Fund." He patted his friend on the back amicably. "Now, you think you can  
add it to the contents of Max's office? I gotta go plan for even further additions."  
  
Joshua was more than glad to present his offering to Max in her office. He took the briefcases  
and scrambled off. Alec chuckled at his friend's cute innocence. He stood still for a moment,  
content to be done with a day of running around, but as it was only 3 o'clock in the afternoon, he  
knew his work day was only just beginning. Spotting a trio of X's chatting and passing by a  
nearby window, Alec turned and jogged outside to meet them. They looked in shape enough for  
a few thieveries.  
  
"Hey, you guys!" he called after them once he got outside.  
  
They turned as one to see who demanded their attention. "494!" exclaimed one of them, a male,  
about Alec's age, with blond hair and bright blue eyes, and tattoos covering his muscular arms.   
He jogged over to Alec and caught him in a manly bear hug.  
  
Surprised, Alec returned the favour as the identity of the X5 came to him. "223! Long time, no  
see!"  
  
The two of them pulled back to look each other over, as the rest of the group approached. "Cute.   
As always, 494," a petite brunette commented. Her brown eyes sparkled with joy.  
  
"It's Alec now, guys," Alec informed them. He studied the girl's spiked locks, which were short,  
but longer than his own, and stuck off stylishly in every possible direction. "Nice cut 562," he  
complemented.  
  
"Ashton," she corrected. "Yeah, I needed a change."  
  
"And she most certainly got what she was looking for," 223 added. "But I have yet to find a  
stash of gel, so I have no idea how she keeps it so porcupine-ish. My name's March. The month,  
not the verb."  
  
"Nice choice. And you are?" he asked the remaining X. 'Stunning,' was the first thought that  
came to his mind. Glossy red hair, straight down to the middle of her back and short in front to  
frame her cherub face, almost glowing green eyes, full red lips, smooth white skin, curves in all  
the right places . . . slightly shorter than Alec, the woman radiated perfection almost as much as  
Max's DNA.  
  
Noticing the look Alec was giving her, the woman grinned, flashing perfect pearly whites. She  
held out a hand to him, which looked to be perfectly manicured without any work. "I'm  
Blake," she introduced herself. "Formerly known as X5-607."  
  
A comfortable, cocky grin fell unto Alec's face. "Charmed, I'm sure." He took her outstretched  
hand and kissed it reverently. Just before he let go, he hesitated. "Wait a minute . . . 607?   
You're an '09 escapee!"  
  
Blake nodded. "That I am."  
  
"Holy whack! Max is gonna freak!" Alec exclaimed. He held his firm grip, gestured toward HQ,  
more for Ashton and March's benefit than Blake's, and yanked on Blake's hand, practically  
dragging her into Headquarters and to Max's office.  
  
Not needing much encouragement, Blake followed him, in a bit of a daze. "You mean Max as  
in 452-Max?" she asked.  
  
"Yeah!"  
  
Alec threw open the door to the office and barged in. Startled, Max dropped the suitcase Joshua  
had handed to her, crushing her toes under the onslaught. She shrieked in pain and turned to  
Alec, face red. She promptly began to scream at him, wiping the excited and proud look off of his  
handsome face. "Alec! What the hell do you think you're doing?!? I'm gonna kill you, you son  
of a bitch!" She punched him roughly on the shoulder. That day being only a few days after he  
had gotten shot in said shoulder, Alec yelped in pain and leapt away from her like the opposite  
side of the room had just exploded. Blake yelped as well and stepped to the side, one foot at a  
time. Unfortunately for Alec, she wasn't fast enough, and he tripped over her still outstretched  
foot, and stumbled back out the door, smacking into Ashton and March, who toppled over like  
bowling pins. Max slammed the door behind him.  
  
Ignoring the curses and moans floating through the door, Max turned to Blake, and smiled  
sweetly and calmly at her. "How may I help you?" she asked pleasantly.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Remember, if you love me or my story, or any particular scene in my story, review, PLEASE!  
  
I know the intro of Ashton, March, and especially Blake was a little abrupt, but that scene was  
meant as fast-paced and full of surprises. It's like, Alec sees people, thinks they're can help bring  
in the cash. BAM! He knows them. BAM! '09er. BAM! See Max. BAM! Max 'throws' Alec  
out. The story should calm down a bit next chapter. As it is now, I think it has had too much  
caffeine. 


	3. Learn To Live With It

The Only Way Out: Does It Really Matter?  
  
Keela13  
  
Part One  
Chapter 3  
  
Summary: The transgenics have to find ways to stay alive, and keep themselves occupied while  
the siege creeps slowly along. Lot's of new and old faces are showing up to help with the latter.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't presume to own Dark Angel, I could never have the genius to come up with it,  
or the stupidity to cancel it. I DO own my original characters.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ignoring the curses and moans floating through the door, Max turned to Blake, and smiled  
sweetly and calmly at her. "How may I help you?" she asked pleasantly.  
  
"Is it really you, Max?" Blake whispered, as if seeing her sister was a dream, and if she spoke too  
loudly, she might wake herself up.  
  
Max's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Do I know you?" she asked suspiciously. She immediately  
felt guilty at the broken expression that clouded the woman's beautiful features. Max wracked  
her brain to figure out who she was, knowing that the only way to fix the girl would be to  
remember on her own. The woman opened her mouth to speak, but Max shushed her. "Wait a  
minute." Max studied her carefully, and her eyes widened with surprise and joy. "Blake?!?"  
  
The redhead nodded vigorously and the two women met in a long, joy-filled hug. "I missed you,  
baby sister," Blake said.  
  
"I missed you too," Max choked out.  
  
Sensing that they needed this moment, Joshua crept silently out of the room, leaving the two of  
them alone. They pulled apart after several minutes. Blake reached up and pinched herself on  
the arm. "Ow," she said calmly. "Well, I'm not dreaming." She chuckled softly and looked up,  
meeting her sister's eyes, which were spilling over with tears. Blake reached up and gently  
wiped them away. She kissed Max on the forehead, and pulled her tightly into another hug.  
  
********  
  
"Owwwww . . ." Alec moaned from where he lay on the floor with Ashton and March, in a tangle  
of limbs. He looked into the neck of shirt, checking to see if his wound had opened up again. It  
hadn't, but it still hurt like hell. "Bitch!" he yelled, hoping Max heard it.  
  
Ashton squirmed her way out from the pile and held out a hand to help him up. "You alright  
Alec?"  
  
"I'm always alright," Alec growled, glaring at the door to Max's office. Ashton pulled him to his  
feet by his good arm as March rose on his own. Alec sighed. Max *really* grated on his nerves  
at times. "So what have you two been doing with yourselves?" Alec asked his two old friends.   
Or as close as people can get without being known as friends or allowed to feel.  
  
"Just living the best we can," March replied. "A few petty thieveries here and there, visiting  
tattoo parlors," he put his tattoo-ridden arm out in front of himself to illustrate, "clubbing,  
winning cash in drinking contests, beating some poor schmuck at pool on several occasions,  
having sex, you know. The new usual."  
  
"Sex, huh? Who with?" Alec pried, grinning mischievously. His grin slid away when he noticed  
that Joshua had just emerged from Max's office. To hear him having a conversation about sex.   
The last thing he needed to do was add words to Joshua's vocabulary, words which could be  
blurted out at any awkward point in time. "Uh . . ."  
  
"S'okay, I-I was just leaving," Joshua said, before walking away, true to his word.  
  
"That was uncomfortable," March commented.  
  
"Just a tad," Alec agreed. "Back on the topic: sex. With anyone important?"  
  
March shrugged. "Nah, just Ash."  
  
Ashton smacked him in the head. "You jerk! Why don't you just go to the fence and scream it so  
all the ordinaries in Seattle hear it?!?" Alec chuckled. "What's so funny?!?" Ashton yelled at him.  
  
"Nothing, nothing at all," Alec claimed, raising his hands in the air innocently. "I just think you  
missed the joke behind the statement, that's all." He grinned. "At least I hope you did."  
  
Ashton glared fire at him. If looks could kill, or maim, or any of the above, Alec would most  
definitely not be in good shape. He couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips. Ashton raised  
her fists and her left eyebrow, challenging him to continue. Alec sobered immediately. "So, uh,  
moving on . . ." He hesitated, looking like the proverbial deer caught in headlights.  
  
"And what have you been up to?" March interjected, saving Alec from a potentially life  
threatening situation.  
  
"The same as you guys, minus the tattoos. One's enough for me," Alec said, gesturing to the  
back of his neck. "So, thievery, huh?" The mischievous glint returned to Alec's eyes. "Speaking  
of, the reason I ran out after you guys-"  
  
"You mean you didn't just wanna see us?" March asked.  
  
"Oh, that hurts," Ashton pouted.  
  
"Oh, come on, look at your hair! How was I supposed to know it was you guys? And Blake  
wasn't exactly familiar, though I definitely wouldn't mind getting to know her . . . heh, Max  
would kill me then . . ." Alec trailed off, a dreamy look in his eyes and a small smile on his face,  
imagining 'getting to know' Blake.  
  
"Alec!" Ashton snapped her fingers in his face. Alec snapped back to reality. "You were  
saying?"  
  
"Oh yeah, we need a few extra hands on the cash heists for the TC fund."  
  
"Consider it done," March told him.  
  
********  
  
A pair of masculine hands lifted a tiny black leather . . . something or other from a closet and held  
it up for inspection. Black eyes studied it carefully as he flipped the complicated tangle of leather  
straps, trying in vain to figure out what the hell it was. "Hey, Val!"  
  
Silence ensued as the hot pink wool clad blonde continued to rummage through a dresser looking  
for an appropriate change of clothing. "Val," the male spoke again. She ignored him, lifting a  
wad of cash out of a drawer.  
  
Her eyes widened. "Dac, look at this!"  
  
He turned to look at her findings, bringing the leather thing with him. He nodded in  
understanding. "That would explain whatever the hell this is." He held it up for her to see.   
"We've hit hooker territory." Val tossed the cash onto the bed that sat in the center of the small  
apartment, and took the leather from him, twisting it around until she found what she was looking  
for. She whistled in appreciation. The thing still looked to Dac like nothing but twisted leather.   
"What is it?" he asked her.  
  
"It's a top," Val informed him matter-of-factly.  
  
Dac's eyebrows shot up. "How could that be called a top? It looks like it should cover just about  
. . ." he held up his thumb and index finger, about an inch apart, "this much."  
  
Ignoring his skepticism, Val instructed him to find a skirt. Rather than let him do so, however,  
she pushed past him and began to rummage through the closet herself. After throwing several  
similar 'garments' onto the bed, she produced a tubular piece of black leather. She pushed past  
him again and walked into the small bathroom, carrying the leather with her.  
  
"You're kidding!" Dac exclaimed. He sighed and began to search through the dresser some  
more, knowing that he would find no suitable male attire in the closet. He came up with several  
more wads of cash and a few things he would rather not think about. After several minutes, Val  
emerged wearing more than Dac had thought she had gone in with. The leather straps tied up on  
the back of her neck, crossed over her chest with enough material to cover herself in an almost  
decent manner, and criss-crossed and wrapped around her abdomen in several thin straps. Her  
skirt showed off a lot of leg, and just barely fell under the category of enough to keep her  
covered. Her creamy white skin was a stark contrast to the black leather.  
  
There was going to be a massive bump on Dac's jaw the next morning, because he could almost  
swear it just hit the floor. "Wassa matter?" Val asked playfully. "Cat got your tongue?"  
  
"Uh . . . uh . . . Good god, woman! You can't wear *that* in public!" Dac scolded. He nearly  
dove into the closet. After a minute of rummaging and disgusted curses, and Val hiding a smile  
and a laugh behind her hand, Dac found something slightly more suitable. Pants. Full, complete,  
pants. Black leather, like everything else in that devil closet, but still pants. He shoved them into  
Val's face. "Try these. And," he produced a leather tube top that tied up in the back, "this."  
  
Val shrugged, took the garments and returned to the bathroom. "Not bad."  
  
She emerged momentarily, much more descent than before. She studied her new outfit in the  
mirror above the dresser. "It's not quite enough," she observed.  
  
Dac more than fully agreed. "Absolutely. Maybe you'll find something in the next apartment to  
replace it."  
  
"That's not what I mean. It's missing something."  
  
"Like 90 percent of the material!"  
  
"Accessories, Dac. Accessories."  
  
Dac sighed loudly. "Whatever. Let's look for something that's not in any way feminine or  
purple." He collected up all the cash they had found and strolled into the next apartment.   
Seconds later, he ran out, a terrified look on his face. "You're not going in there," he informed  
Val. "Even you'd be scared for life." He re-entered the first apartment, grabbed her by the upper  
arm, and dragged her out the door. He rolled his eyes as she pulled away, ran back to the room,  
and scooped all she could get her hands on from the closet and off the bed. She ran back out to  
him with an armful of leather, and turned so her arm resumed its position in his hand. Dac sighed,  
but let her be and continued to drag her down the hall and up the stairs to the next floor.  
  
After poking his head into several rooms, Dac pulled Val into one that was decidedly male.   
"Jackpot!" Dac immediately strode over to the closet. "Let's have a look . . ." Dac flipped  
through the clothing that the previous occupant had left. Business suits. Lots of business suits.   
Charcoal, black, navy. Nothing interesting. And . . . "Omigod!" Dac busted up laughing.  
  
"What?" Val asked. "What is it?"  
  
Dac stripped off his purple plaid, buttonless button down shirt, and hung it up in the closet.   
"Here ya go, buddy. This is more your style than mine," Dac whispered almost reverently to the  
guy who had owned the suit collection.  
  
"Huh?" Val was, needless to say, confused. Who would actually want a purple plaid, button  
down shirt? Buttonless or otherwise?  
  
Dac laughed again. Before Val could beat the joke out of him, Dac lifted something from a hook  
in the side of the closet. "Val, this guy actually owned a purple plaid tie!"  
  
"What?!? Lemme see!" Val dropped her load of leather onto the bed and reached for the tie. She  
snatched it from his grip. "Dear sweet Jesus, and it's worn out! He even *wore* it!" She studied  
it. "Hmm . . ."  
  
"What, 'hmm'?" Dac asked warily, turning towards her, his firm, muscular chest in full view of  
her suddenly hungry eyes. "Val, what are you-" He suddenly found his throat had gone dry, when  
her attention returned to the tie, and she raised it to her neck. Terror overcame him, pooling in  
his black eyes. "No. Tell me you're not-"  
  
"Hey, this is kinda cool!"  
  
Several transgenic heads turned, as a loud, unmasculine scream of protest exploded through the  
walls of the building. "Noooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!"  
  
********  
  
"And so Ash says, 'I may be a porcupine, but no one has as much prick as you!' and she takes  
the needle, and pokes him in the ass!" Blake and Max laughed like hyenas, albeit good looking  
and sounding hyenas, as Blake recounted another tale from her 'stay' with Ashton and March.  
  
Max chuckled, wiping tears from her eyes. "Sounds like the three of you had a hell of a time."  
  
Blake shrugged. "They were funny, I'll give them that, but they couldn't compare to the  
company of you guys." She smiled softly. "So what's up with that Alec guy? I know he was  
from the other unit, but he looks kinda familiar."  
  
"He's Ben's twin," Max whispered, her smile draining from her face.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"So, uh, have you heard from any of the others lately?" Max asked hopefully, changing the subject  
before it got to more painful territory.  
  
"Not a peep," Blake sighed. "I miss them. I missed you."  
  
"Oh, Sis, you have no idea . . ."  
  
"I probably do."  
  
"Probably." Max smiled. "So what do you say we go out and celebrate?"  
  
"What exactly do you have in mind?" Blake asked, a mischievous grin forming on her features.  
  
"Well . . ."  
  
********  
  
Slender fingers flew nimbly, fiddling with wires all over the place in the steel power box. "Just  
about . . . ah, there we go," Ashton said as the lights and alarm systems in the building above her  
all flashed off a few times before turning off completely. She and Alec had snuck their way into  
the basement of William Inderling, where they had to shut off the power in order to get to the  
alleged thief's vault. Inderling reportedly arranged for items to be 'retrieved,' and then locked  
them in his vault under high security until the heat was off said item. Alec's reasoning had been:  
who better to steal from than a thief? No one outside of his posse or Terminal City would know  
the difference anyway, and it wasn't like Inderling could report the items being stolen.  
  
Of course, being a thief himself, you'd think he'd know how to protect 'his' property from  
thieves. It was obvious he never did the dirty work himself in the fact that his security was  
surprisingly lax. Still, when sneaking in, Alec and Ashton had used the utmost care to go  
unnoticed.  
  
After cutting off the power, by rearranging wires all over the place, enough to confuse even the  
most advanced of technical whizzes, they hid in the shadows and snuck back upstairs. Perhaps  
someone would notice that *someone* had tampered with the system and it wasn't just confusing,  
but at least it would buy the two of them some time to achieve their objective. Relieving the vault  
of its contents.  
  
"So, how did you and Max meet?" Ashton asked conversationally as the two of them crept  
upstairs. She and Alec paused momentarily to tuck themselves into a closet as three men ran  
down the hallway where they had stood moments before.  
  
"I'm guessing the same way you and March got together. Just kept coming back for more, didn't  
you?" Alec grinned as Ashton smacked him upside the head.  
  
"It's not my fault *he* couldn't get enough," she replied. Peeking her head out the door, she  
signaled to him that they were in the clear and they emerged and resumed their journey to the  
vault.  
  
"Who could blame him?" Alec commented. Ashton smacked him again. "Almost there," Alec  
said. They approached a turn-off in the hallway, which would lead them to the room the vault  
was situated in. Faint conversation could be heard around the corner, and Alec crept along the  
wall ahead of Ashton, stopping just at the edge.  
  
". . . yeah, sometimes I just wanna hit that guy," one man huffed.  
  
"Might knock some sense into hi-" The second man was cut off by the back of Alec's fist, which  
slammed into his face as he rounded the corner.  
  
"What the hell?!" the first guy exclaimed as his pal hit the floor without a sound. Ashton blurred  
around the corner and took him out before he could even blink again.  
  
Grinning widely, the two of them crept to the unguarded doorway at the end of the hall. Alec  
picked the lock, and within seconds, they were in. Ashton rushed over to the vault embedded into  
the wall as Alec stood guard at the door, even though it was closed. You could never be  
prepared enough. Ashton put her ear to the dial and began to turn it, and in less than ten seconds,  
she had it open. She entered quickly, sizing up the various pieces of artwork and jewelry it  
contained. Choosing quickly the various objects that could fit into her duffel bag, Ashton made  
quick work, leaving only what she couldn't easily carry on her person. "Toss me your bag!" she  
whispered, knowing Alec would hear her. She caught it as it flew at her and filled it up as well,  
shoving several small items into her pockets, even. Ashton exited the vault and closed it quickly  
and quietly, carrying both bags with her.  
  
Without warning, the secondary alarm system went off, powered by a back up source. Red lights  
flashed in the hallway, and loud klaxons sounded, amid distant, pounding footsteps, heading in  
Alec and Ashton's direction. Alec held his pistol at the ready, just inside the doorway. Ashton  
lay their bags on the floor and leapt high into the air, lacing her fingers through a vent in the  
ceiling and letting her sudden weight pull it out. It came out cleanly, only dust and not plaster  
floating down through the air to rest in Ashton's robustly spiked hair. She easily heaved the black  
bags into the vent and leapt up again, pulling herself neatly in. "Come on!" she hissed at Alec,  
who was already on his way.  
  
He handed her the grate from the floor and she pulled it in sideways as she moved out of his way.   
With one fluid motion, to more than rival Ashton's own, Alec sprung upward, grabbing the side  
edges of the vent and swinging his legs up, sliding them in and using his momentum to guide the  
rest of his body through the opening. Silently, and with speed faster than light, Ashton replaced  
the grate, closing up the vent just as guards charged into the door.  
  
The two of them scrambled along the vent, pushing their duffels ahead of them. Realizing where  
they must've gone, the men below them began to fire up into the vents, in an attempt to stop them  
in their tracks. Scurrying along behind Ashton almost as fast as they could move with the bags,  
Alec felt something burn along the side of his shoe, just before they got out of firing range.   
"Damn!" he hissed, more out of anger and annoyance than pain, though it did hurt. Of course HE  
had gotten hit. It was ALWAYS him. And in the foot this time, of all places. Not only would  
this injury slow him down at least a little, but it would definitely leave a blood trail.  
  
"Are you alright?" Ashton asked him.  
  
"I'm fine, just grazed my foot." Alec's tone was underlined with anger.  
  
"You don't sound fine," Ashton joked, now that she knew he was, in fact, alright, despite any  
small pain he was feeling.  
  
"Why do *I* always have to get shot? Did the guy who invented guns really, REALLY hate  
me?" Alec sighed in frustration.  
  
"Only if he knew you."  
  
"Funny."  
  
"I thought so."  
  
"You can expect a severe beating when we get out of here," Alec promised.  
  
"Sure, sure," Ashton mocked. She slowed to a stop and looked through the grate she had just  
arrived at. Upon determining that no one was directly below them, she laced the fingers of  
one hand through the grate and pushed it out with ease that would have shocked an ordinary. She  
lay it against the side of the vent and out of her way, then stuck her head out into the room below.   
Holding onto the edge, she flipped herself out.  
  
Alec handed her down the duffel bags and joined her. They had entered the master bedroom.   
Inderling, of course, was not present, which was already presumable since the alarms were still  
going. Ashton moved to open the bedroom window so they could climb out. Alec gestured for  
her to stop and limped over. He looked out. Second story. One of them would simply jump out,  
catch the bags the other tossed to them, and then the second of them would jump out and that  
was it. So, just for a little payback for being shot, Alec stepped back slightly and put his black-  
gloved fist right through the glass, and cleared it out. "Ladies first," he said, grinning and  
stepping aside for Ashton to exit.  
  
She grinned back at him, and opened the broken window. She figured vandalism would be much  
better vengeance if it was completely unnecessary for their escape. Ashton then moved back, ran,  
and dove straight out the window, tucking and rolling on the ground to wind up back on her feet.   
She turned and caught the duffels as they flew at her. She moved them and herself to the side and  
Alec dove out after her. As he came to his feet, he stumbled slightly on his wounded foot.  
  
Knowing that helping him would hurt his male pride, Ashton tossed him his duffel and they took  
off into the night, moving slightly slower than they had coming in.  
  
********  
  
"Hmm, let's see . . ." Max scratched her chin thoughtfully. "I was thinking we could pull some  
prank on Alec, but now that you mention it, I think Mole would look good pink!" She and Blake  
burst out laughing, picturing it. Mole would be *so* much scarier as a big *pink* lizard. "But  
I'm gonna have to take that one off the list. Mole has a horrible enough temper as it is, without  
us putting dye in his shower. Plus, other people use that water. You never know who could get  
to it first."  
  
"Yeah, that's true," Blake agreed. "But pink!" She giggled. She sighed. "Well, maybe we could  
paint Ash's face while she sleeps. We'll give her a black spot around her eye, and a black nose . .  
. She could really pull off the bulldog look."  
  
"You think?" Max asked, intrigued.  
  
"Oh, I do."  
  
"Yeah, or we could-"  
  
"Hey Max!" Dix called out from the computer, on the other side of the room. "Logan's on the  
vid phone!"  
  
"I'll be there in a sec!" Max called back. "I guess we'll have to handle this later, sis," she said  
regretfully.  
  
"Don't worry," Blake grinned. "I'll take care of it. Keep an eye out." She winked  
mischievously.  
  
"Aiight!" Max headed over to the computer.  
  
Blake stood where Max had left her and stared off into space, rubbing her hands together and  
cooking up her scheme. -This is gonna be good- she thought.  
  
********  
  
"I mean, it's not like I go around with some damn 'shoot me' sign on my back!" Alec complained.  
  
Ashton rolled her eyes and sighed as he began another tirade on the way into headquarters.   
Would the guy ever shut up? It was only a graze! It'd probably be healed over by the next day!  
  
"Is there something wrong with helping out? Is that what they're trying to tell me? Just sit back  
while everyone starves and everything will somehow, miraculously right itself without my  
interference? All I ever do on these missions and what not is try to help and I always get freakin'  
shot! What do they want from me???"  
  
"What does who want from you, Alec?" Ashton muttered tiredly and unsympathetically.  
  
"They, Them, The Powers That Be, crazed teenaged girls who watch my life like a frickin' TV  
show, I don't know! Whoever it is that gets their kicks out of watching me bleed! It doesn't  
matter. The point is, I'm sick of it! My shoulder finally heals, despite Max's abuse, enough for  
me to finally get back into the acrobatics and the heists and fights, and then I get shot again!"   
While limping down the street and carrying his duffel in one hand, Alec waved his free arm around  
frantically to emphasize each point. He reminded Ashton slightly of a one-winged chicken,  
stumbling around like it had it's head cut off and with one leg shorter than the other. She  
couldn't stop herself from laughing aloud at this analogy.  
  
Alec whipped his head in her direction to glare at her just as they turned towards the door to the  
building which housed Terminal City's command center. The sudden jerking motion of his head  
reminded Ashton of a rooster, and she prepared herself to her a scruffy 'buckaw' burst from his  
throat. The poor girl had to put her bag down in order to keep her balance as the laughter tore  
through her petite frame. "What the hell is so fu-mmph!" Alec cut himself off as he smacked into  
the closed door.  
  
The closed door which chose that moment to fly open. Alec stumbled in, dropping his duffel, and  
would have fallen flat on his face, if not for the reason for the door's sudden opening. Blake  
plowed into him, toppling him over and going down with him in a tangle of limbs. "No no no!"  
Blake yelled, frantically scrambling to untangle herself.  
  
Mole, very angry and very pink, charged through the doorway after her and tripped on the two of  
them, falling and landing on top of the pile. A muffled grunt escaped Alec's lips at the added  
weight. He would have began to yell until his throat was raw, but was interrupted by a large hand  
covered in pink paint that dropped onto his face.  
  
"Uh oh," Ashton gasped from the sidelines, preparing herself to witness all hell as it broke loose.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I know, I know. This is very much like what happened at the end of last chapter. But isn't it fun?   
Don't worry, this should be the last oomph ending for a chapter. This fic is meant to become  
much more serious, and hopefully it will do so. Humor is good. But for the purpose of this fic,  
humor cannot be the entire theme. If that's what you want, I suggest reading my other fic 'Help  
the sorry person who reads this.' and the break stuff chapters of 'Break Stuff.'  
  
Thanks for your time and patience with the slow updates.  
  
Kel 


	4. Not Good

The Only Way Out: Does It Really Matter?  
  
Keela13  
  
Part One  
Chapter 4  
  
Disclaimer: I don't presume to own Dark Angel, I could never have the genius to come up with it,  
or the stupidity to cancel it. I DO own my original characters.  
  
AN: Asterisks (*) surrounding an entire sentence or more symbolizes a flashback.  
  
RagingConfusion: Don't worry, you shouldn't remember Blake. I made her up.  
  
Thanx for the reviews, all!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Hey," Max said with a small smile as she approached the video screen, seeing Logan's entire face  
light up as she approached the camera.  
  
"Hey," Logan replied. "How's it going?"  
  
"Oh, not bad. We've gotten our hands on some cash, with more on the way. . . . And I found my  
sister." The nonchalant way in which Max said that caused Logan to take a moment to really hear  
what she'd said. Classic double take. Max watched as he jerked ramrod straight in his chair and  
his eyes threatened to pop out of his head.  
  
"Really?!?"  
  
"I tell you I've found my sister after more than ten years, and all you can say is 'really'?" Max  
teased.  
  
"Uh . . . wow. . . . Really?" Logan repeated.  
  
Max chuckled softly. "Really really, Donkey."  
  
Logan looked confused. His brow crinkled softly and his mouth formed a loose 'O'. Max had no  
chance of removing the smile from her face. He just looked so damn cute!  
  
Having recovered slightly from the shock, Logan managed to form words other than 'really.'   
"W-which one?"  
  
"Blake," Max responded immediately.  
  
"And?"  
  
Max's brow furrowed. "And what?" Did he not realize that that was the point? That the  
excitement was in having found her sister? What more did she need to say?  
  
"Tell me about her!" Logan prompted, excited and happy for her.  
  
"Oh!" Max grinned and shook the doubts away. Where to start? When they had been children,  
Blake had had a fiery personality. She had an awesome temper, and once the guards turned their  
backs, someone always had to hold her back from attacking them. When Krit had snuck up on  
her on a training mission in the woods, she had punched him in the face, broken his arm, and then  
didn't speak to him for a week. But on the other hand, Blake had been really sweet. She always  
looked out for her younger brothers and sisters (except when they pissed her off), and she was a  
great comfort in their times of need. Now she was still sweet, and funny despite all she had gone  
through, a tad more mischievous than Max would've though she'd have been. But the temper  
seemed to have disappeared. "She's beautiful," was all Max found herself saying. And she was.  
  
Logan accepted this, understanding that Max was just a little overwhelmed at the moment.  
  
Max and Logan just sat there for a few minutes, each staring at their respective screens, at each  
other.  
  
Their comfortable silence was broken, suddenly and loudly, as a clatter and a splash sounded from  
the mouth of a short hallway which led from the outside door into Headquarters. A surprised and  
shocked noise escaped Mole's throat, and everyone turned to look at what had caused the  
commotion. The entire room went silent, as everyone took in the sight of Mole, covered from  
head to toe in pink paint.  
  
Mole was still quite capable of a frighteningly menacing glare, despite the pink. He turned said  
glare on full blast as he surveyed the room, looking for the culprit. His search didn't last long, as  
a fit of giggles erupted from underneath HQ's large meeting table.  
  
Blake lay underneath the table, curled up in a fetal position, body wracked with laughter. She  
stopped suddenly, having noticed the silent atmosphere, thick with tension. She looked slowly up  
at Mole. Steam poured from the desert transgenic's ears. "Oh shit," Blake gasped, and then took  
off from under the table like a rocket. Mole plowed through the crowd like a bulldozer on turbo,  
and chased after her.  
  
"Shit shit shit shitshitshit!" Blake screeched as she ran.  
  
Mole was predatorily silent, aside from the squish and squeak of his shoes as he left pink  
footprints in his wake. The two of them circled the room three times before Blake managed to  
turn into the exit, barely keeping from smacking into the wall. Blake reached the door, paused  
long enough to pull it open, and charged outside.  
  
The occupants of HQ remained frozen in place, unable to force any sound from their lips.   
Everyone in the room collectively winced twice at the sound of two dull, yet very loud thuds.  
  
  
Then Max snapped out of it, and took off for the exit to see if her sister was still alive, leaving  
Logan to stare in confusion at his screen, wondering what the hell had happened.  
  
********  
  
Alec was strangely still, Ashton noted. Blake lay squashed between him and Mole, and was  
squirming like a worm trying to get out, while Mole tried to get his bearings, and made several  
attempts to rise, which were unsuccessful due to the squirming mass underneath him. And  
amidst, or rather below all this, Alec did not move. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, his jaw  
was clenched, and his muscles were stiff.  
  
Ashton recognized the angry position, and was loathe to go anywhere near the fuming X5, but she  
snapped back to reality and moved to help Mole off the pile. She sidestepped the bag she had lain  
on the ground in front of herself, and took a moment to decide how to move Mole without  
getting covered in pink paint. She opted for a boot to the ribs, albeit a gentle boot to the ribs, and  
she rolled him over carefully.  
  
Mole thudded onto his back on the broken pavement, and rose with much more grace than he had  
previously shown, leaving a pink silhouette of himself of the pavement.  
  
Max skidded into view just inside the doorway. Her momentum nearly caused her to take Mole's  
place in the pile, but she awkwardly jumped over it instead, stubbed her toe on a pothole on the  
other side, and barely kept her face from being plastered to the ground.  
  
As she turned around, Blake finally found a way to get off of Alec. She stood back in the  
doorway. Mole re-activated his glare in her direction, and she grinned sheepishly, holding her  
hands in the air in surrender.  
  
Alec still hadn't moved. Ashton chewed her lip nervously. This was not good. Not good at all.   
He finally opened his eyes, and stared with an almost indifferent look at the nearest suspect, who  
just happened to be the guilty party. Blake.  
  
Who, unfortunately, took this moment to notice the pink hand print that adorned his face. It  
wasn't even smudged, just one perfect hand print. Blake burst into giggles.  
  
REALLY not good at all. Ashton drew her finger frantically across her throat, mentally begging  
Blake to shut up. The poor girl didn't see her, and was therefore unaware of what was to come.  
  
With an unexpected movement which caused Ashton to jump, she was so tense, Alec flipped to  
his feet. On the landing, he stumbled on his wounded foot. "What the hell was that?" he gritted  
out in calm tone of voice. Ashton found herself with that classic feeling of preferring if he were to  
yell. She had found on several occasions while growing up with Alec, that quiet Alec equals very  
bad. Like how everyone suddenly goes silent when the bomb hits the floor. They know there is  
no way to escape in time, and are frozen still, as if any movement will set it off. Then they all go  
kaboom anyway.  
  
Alec swivelled his head slowly in Mole's direction. He was the one who was completely pink, so  
Ashton deduced that he had not started it, but rather had been a victim. Alec, apparently, reached  
the same conclusion. He looked over his shoulder at Max, who still did not appear to know what  
was going on. Alec returned his attention to Blake. Warning bells clanged and clattered in  
Ashton's head, causing quite a racket between her ears.  
  
Blake's laughter died down slowly. "Umm . . . heh . . . nothing?" Blake looked Alec in the face  
and burst into a fresh set of giggles.  
  
"Nothing," Alec echoed. "Nothing?!? And you think this is funny? What the hell were you two  
thinking, running around like crazed bulls in a friggin' WAR ZONE!" Mole and Max stared at  
Alec, slack-jawed. "There's a group of people outside that fence who'd jump at the chance to  
KILL US, and you're giving them more reason to think we're ANIMALS! You could've hurt  
someone! And then the ordinaries would drop a damn BOMB on us ALL!" Blake's laughter was  
long gone, and she had joined the glare-wearin' club. Her face was turning almost as red as her  
hair. "You see these bags? They contain a valuable source of CASH which we need to LIVE,  
and you damn near CRUSHED THEM! DOES THAT SEEM LIKE NOTHING TO YOU?!?!?"  
  
"Well, gee, now that you mention it, no," Blake shot at him sarcastically.  
  
"Do you think this is a GAME?" Alec roared. "WE'RE UNDER SIEGE! WE NEED TO BE  
ON OUR GUARD, NOT-"  
  
*Wham!*  
  
Alec stumbled backward from the force of the hit. Blake advanced on him. "Of course this is not  
a game," she snarled. "I'm not an idiot, and I'm not a child! And you have no damn right to talk  
to me like-"  
  
Alec lunged for her, and Ashton sprang into action, running at him from the side and knocking  
him off his feet before he could inflict any damage. She landed on top of him, and sat up,  
straddling him. On his back, Alec wriggled for a moment, trying to free his arms, which Ashton  
had pinned beneath her legs. "Get off," Alec growled.  
  
Ashton knew that she could not simply let him up, or he would attack her friend, maybe even her.   
She couldn't just sit on him and let him fume, because he'd throw her off eventually. She  
couldn't talk him out of his state of anger. So she did the only thing she could do, the thing that  
most people would consider completely insane, but was in fact the only option. Ashton slapped  
him hard enough to snap his head to the side, even while it was resting against the pavement. She  
had to admit, it felt kind of good. The crazy way he was acting had scared the shit out of her.  
  
Alec's head snapped back in her direction. He studied her face with an unreadable expression.   
Ashton's brow was drawn together, and she was breathing hard. Her eyes were clouded with  
anger and confusion and fear, and they shone wetly. *I was sent here to kill your father. It was  
my job. . . . You were my job.* Alec reached up a hand to touch the side of Ashton's face, but  
before he touched her he drew back as if he'd been burned. "I'm okay now," he murmured.  
  
Ashton nodded slowly and got off of him, offering her hand to help him up.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I've noticed that I write long-ass chapters for this story, and in interest of quicker updates and  
easier reading, I am going to write future chapters much shorter. (I had more words in the first  
three chapters than some people had in eight! And their chapters were regular length!) 


	5. Perfect

The Only Way Out: Does It Really Matter?

By

Kel  
  
Part One

Chapter 5  
  
Disclaimer: I don't presume to own Dark Angel, I could never have the genius to come up with it, or the stupidity to cancel it. I DO own my original characters.  
  
Author's Note: You guys know where some of the transgenics, other than the X series, were specifically designed to be different, to perform tasks that in many cases the X's couldn't? For example Gill Guy and Girl, they were designed for underwater mission stuff, and Mole was designed for desert warfare stuff, and Luke for digging trenches, and that Arctic guy for Arctic stuff. Well, I'm gonna lump all the different kinds of the specifically designed transgenics into one group called the SU. (Specialty Unit. Ex: If Mole's number was 429, he'd be Specialty Unit 429, or SU-429.)  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Dac, I don't wanna go in yet," Val protested softly as they approached TC Headquarters.  
  
Dac stopped his pace and turned around to look at her. "Why not?" he asked her.  
  
Val shrugged, her black leather outfit creaking with the movement. She nervously played with the end of the purple plaid tie that was tied loosely around her neck. She scuffed the toe of her second-hand, black Nike sneaker in the dirt. Dac approached her slowly. "Val?" he prompted.  
  
Val smiled softly. "It won't be just us anymore," she elaborated quietly. If Dac had not had genetically enhanced hearing, he wouldn't have been able to pick it out.  
  
"It hasn't been just us for very long," he pointed out, running his hand softly through her straight blonde hair and rubbing a strand between his fingers.  
  
"That's exactly my point," Val told him, placing her hand gently on his chest, now adorned in a loose black button up t-shirt. With buttons. "It's just . . . these past few months have been . . . I dunno, fun. And . . . and I want to hold onto that for a while longer." Ever since Manticore had burned to the ground, the two of them hadn't had any contact with others of their kind, always laying low, never leaving each other's side. "I mean . . . back there it was just us a lot of the time, but we could never . . ."  
  
"Be free," Dac finished for her. Being the only two SU's with their 'talents', the two of them had grown up in each other's presence at Manticore, but had never been allowed to be close. They had trained together, and occasionally with the X5's because of their similarities to the group, but they had had two different cells, and had often had their own individual training exercises and missions. They held the strength, speed, agility, and enhanced senses of an X5, in fact, they essentially were X5's except they had a few attributed talents coded into their DNA that you would not find in any X5. So that meant that they had to do double the work of an X5. They had regular training, but theirs had to be much more vigorous to shorten training time, leaving room for other 'activities.' Upon escaping Manticore, the two of them had had no idea how to handle 'spare time,' and almost all concepts of the outside had been unfamiliar to them, but they had always known one thing. They were family, brother and sister, but more than a brother and sister ever could be . . . should be. They were the only constant that each had left in an ever changing world. And they could not be pried apart with the jaws of life.  
  
"Tell you what," Dac said, "we'll find a place to stay, and we'll sleep on it, see how we're feeling tomorrow."  
  
Val smiled softly up at him. "Sounds good to me," she murmured.  
  
A grin slid onto Dac's face. His black eyes seemed to light up, as much as entirely black eyes could. "I thought it might." He captured her lips in a swift kiss. When he pulled back, she grabbed the back of his head and pulled him back, kissing him again, soft and long. Eventually, she left him go.  
  
"Thank you," she whispered.  
  
"I love doing you favours," Dac responded happily.  
  


********  
  


"How can you stand him?? He's such a jerk!" Blake fumed. "He's an arrogant, stubborn, judgmental prick with a stick the length of the Canadian boarder rammed up his-"

"Blake," Max interjected, "he was just a bit stressed out, that's all!"  
  
"That's all, huh? Then what right does he have to talk to me like I'm dirt??!!" Blake was yelling now. The two of them were in Max's office, where Max attempted to calm down her sister while Alec had been escorted to the infirmary to get his foot checked out. "If I had a gun, I'd-"  
  
"Blake!"  
  
"What!!?"  
  
"Stop!" Max yelled, grabbing Blake by the shoulders. "You're right, he shouldn't have talked to you like that. It was arrogant and mean. But don't let him drag you down like this! Don't stoop to his level."  
  
Blake took several deep breaths and counted to ten in an attempt to calm herself. "Fine." She left the room. Max sighed deeply and dropped into a chair. She leaned down, placing her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. So, Blake's temper hadn't gone anywhere.  
  


********  
  


After choosing an empty apartment in the building they had gotten their clothes from, Dac and Val cuddled up in the warm fluffy bed. It was surprisingly comfortable for a bed in an abandoned apartment building. Of course, they had carefully selected it to be just that.  
  
They wore their more comfortable newfound clothing, a black t-shirt and boxers for Dac, and baby blue teddy bear pajamas for Val. Val lay spooned up against Dac's chest under the covers, her back to him, his arm over her, and their fingers intertwined.  
  
Val sighed contentedly. She and Dac had slept like this almost every night they slept since Manticore had burned down. She always found security in his arms. Her thoughts drifted to nights when she had instead lain scared and alone in the cold atmosphere of Manticore. She shivered slightly at the memories.  
  
Dac squeezed her gently to him. The action came so naturally to him, it was like breathing. The two of them weren't even sure if they were a couple, but they were almost as close.  
  
Val smiled slightly. She also remembered a time when such an expression could earn her some time in isolation. She had always found that no matter how much she didn't want to, when she found herself thinking of life at Manticore, she couldn't stop. If they had known of her lack of mental discipline, they would've thought something was wrong with her. Val shivered again.

"Val?" Dac whispered tentatively. "What're you thinking about?" Of course, he already knew, but he thought it might help if she could say it herself. Sometimes the first step to getting over something was admitting you had a problem in the first place. Everyone from Manticore definitely had problems.  
  
Softly, so softly Dac almost couldn't hear the words, Val began to sing. "Sometimes . . . is never quite enough . . . If you're flawless, then you'll win my love. . . ."  
  
Dac picked up on what song she was singing. "Tolerance," he corrected.  
  
"Don't forget to win first place, don't forget to keep that smile on your face. . . ." Val continued.  
  
In a deep, yet soft baritone, Dac echoed, "Wipe that smile off your face. . . ."  
  
Val continued the real version of the song, while Dac added in corrections and revisions to fit who they were. "Be a good boy . . . Try a little harder . . . You've got to measure up . . . Make me prouder . . ."  
  
Dac began to tap his leg along with the beat that played in both their heads, as the volume of the music increased, and Val continued. "How long before you screw it up? How many times do I have to tell you to hurry up? With everything I do for you . . ."  
  
". . . Put you through," Dac sang.  
  
"The least you can do is keep quiet . . ."  
  
". . . Shut up . . ."  
  
"Be a good girl . . ." Val continued.  
  
"Soldier . . ." Dac corrected.  
  
"You gotta try a little harder . . ."  
  
"A whole lot harder . . ."  
  
"That simply wasn't good enough . . . To make us proud. . . ." The song sped up, and Val's voice grew hoarse, in keeping with the original song. "I'll live through you, I'll-"  
  
"Don't," Dac spoke, interrupting her.  
  
"Don't what?" Val asked, turning to look him in the eyes.  
  
"You have such a beautiful voice, don't waste it like that."  
  
"Dac, the voice is supposed to be hoarse, that's how the song goes. And besides, I don't have a voice," Val protested.  
  
"Yes, you do. You don't have to copy voices every damn time." Dac was growing angry with her, as if they had been through this many times in the past.  
  
"Fine, I'll stop," Val spat back at him.  
  
"Thank you," Dac's voice had gone soft, truly thankful that she had stopped.  
  
Val sighed. She turned her back to him again. They lay there in silence for several minutes. Val's voice broke the spell, or perhaps enhanced it, echoing softly about the room, bouncing off the still walls, the only sound that could be heard. She sang, more quietly than before. "Be a good b- soldier. . . Push a little farther now . . . That wasn't fast enough to make us happy . . . We'll love you . .."

"Tolerate you," Dac cut in.  
  
"Just the way you are . . . if you're perfect."  
  
"They're gone, remember," Dac whispered. "You don't have to do their bidding, you don't have to make them happy anymore. You don't have to live up to their expectations. You can make your own expectations."  
  
Val sighed softly. "I'm working on it."  
  
The two of them eventually fell into a peaceful sleep, in each others' arms.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


End file.
